


Will You Be The One To Guide Us Home?

by orphan_account



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he saw the tiny blue infant of his enemy left to die while its father left to fight, taking Odin's eye. He couldn't help the clenching of his heart when he heard the infant's terrified wailing. Before he even realized what he was doing he had sent his generals away and he was kneeling beside the child, his own magic jumping to reach toward the child, he did not stop it when it caressed him, soothing the little ones aches and hunger as Odin lifted the babe into his arms. </p><p>He would be theirs, and he would allow no more harm to come to this child who's magic shined like white light, like a beacon in a storm.</p><p>Odin silently wondered if this babe would also be the beacon to guide them home, to shore and away from their seas of suffering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loki our white light

The kingdom had waited in joyful anticipation of their dear queen’s son, who was to be named Thor. Though when the moment came for joyous songs and trumpeting horns there was only cold shock when the infant arrived half dead and hadn’t lasted outside of his mother for more that a few hours. Thor had died soon after he was rushed to the healing room. This alone shattered their proud queen, she spent over a year in her chambers only leaving to weep under the tall oak tree she had buried her infant son. She would admit no one into her chambers, and speak to no one but Odin and her dearest ladies in waiting.

 

Seeing his wife like this deepened Odin’s own sorrow, so when he saw the tiny blue infant of his enemy left to die while its father left to fight, taking Odin's eye. He couldn't help the clenching of his heart when he heard the infant's terrified wailing. Before he even realized what he was doing he had sent his generals away and he was kneeling beside the child his own magic jumping to reach toward the child, he did not stop it when it caressed the child soothing it's aches and it's hunger as Odin lifted the babe into his arms. His decision was made the second the babe's bright red eyes met his own grey one and the child smiled, he could feel the small amount of its Seior bloomed outwards making the child's own skin match that of the Asier's holding him.

 

When Odin brought Loki home it was like a blessing and a curse. When he presented the Child to Frigga her anger was so great he feared she would hurl the knives that were always strapped under her skirts. She turned, his wife's wrath bending the metal of the guards’ spears and it made the air shimmer. Odin only sighed and called for a bottle to be brought, chilling it to almost ice for the child. Odin to the surprise of his advisers refused to release the child holding it in the swaddling long since been fetched for him. 

 

The blanket that Frigga herself had made for their lost child surrounding the happy talkative infant as Odin over saw the plans for helping the refugees that had been flooding to the city soon after the war had been declared won and Laufey serving his punishment for bringing war upon his own people. That and all the war taxes now placed upon Jotunheim, seeing as Odin had already personally removed the casket from their realm.

 

The Child yet unnamed, stayed in his arms throughout the day as he saw to its care himself, it was nice as it echoed the actions he himself had taken so little a part in over a year ago before speeding back to Laufey's war. He could feel his grief though not lessened, it seemed to be soothed by the small non sense words the child spoke as he traced the silver embroidered stars sewn into the blanket. 

 

When the day had ended and he was to return to his and Frigga's chambers, he was hesitant; worried he would receive the same treatment as earlier. Maybe even more so when he tells her the name he had settled on, it felt right the name had rolled easily enough off his weary tongue- Loki, that of white light. Like that of the ice, clear and cool wear the sun strikes it in the early morn. A light that guide weary travelers home and has a place with the stars above that hangs like berries from Yggdrasil's mighty branches. 

 

His grip tightened minutely on the tiny babe when he passed the thresh hold, Loki squirmed his tiny face wrinkling into a frown. Frigga was there sitting in front of her vanity, brushing her long blonde hair as her own memories played across the mirror. Images of Frigga's large round belly full with child as she read to their child, flashing to a screaming read bundle with a shock of bloody blonde hair, then to the mid wife's face when she gently told them there was something wrong-. Odin could bear the images no more, looking away from the vanity he focused upon his wife solely sitting straight and proud in her chair. The child in his arms then gave a tiny shriek that devolved into a delicate sounding laugh that made the child's belly shake as he tugged again at Odin's beard. A delight that he had discovered earlier in the morning, hooking his fingers just so that the infant could almost lift himself up away from Odin’s arms this action always proved to make the child either smile toothlessly or give a strong laugh like the one he was exuding now.

 

Frigga seemed to start at the noise, turning in her chair to take in the sight of her husband and this alien babe. Though her stony face flashed with anger it softened when she saw the child tugging at Odin’s beard making the king almost wince. She stood to approach the two of them slowly, stroking a delicate hand over that of the swaddling blanket before pulling it back to fully glimpse at the child. Loki was still smiling, though he had stopped laughing when Frigga had pulling away the fabric from his face. The babe quickly pulled his hands away from Odin to grasp at the fingers that still rested, trembling on his chest. 

 

Loki wasted no time in doing exactly what babies do when presented anything close to their mouths, using tiny hands he tugged at Frigga’s unresisting fingers to pull them into his mouth. Gumming at her fingers and sucking before realizing that she was not in fact food, held her hand close to his face. Both of his little hands gripping fingers on either side of her own hand as he stared enraptured with the rings sitting on those fingers before letting out a pleased sounding noise and hugging her hand to his chest. 

 

The entire time Frigga had not spoken a word and had not drawn a breath, she now withdrew her fingers from the infant’s grip eliciting a displeased frown on the babies face. This softened her countenance further despite the shaky breath she was drawing as she lifted her eyes to her husband all the heartbreak Odin had long become familiar with darkened her eyes, though there was a touch of what might be called hope. What she hoped for her had no idea, he could only hope himself that He could help her, and maybe this child Loki could help her too. 

 

They were both silent as Frigga’s eyes began to shine with tears as she held out her arms so that Odin could place the babe into his wife’s arms. Loki turned towards the queen, squirming in her arms before he was comfortable, the child’s Sior, weak and clumsy though it had the promise of real power- wrapped itself around Frigga as he dozed. Even as his tiny fingers once again reached up, though this time he gripped a small lock that to both the king and queen surprise turned the black of midnight to match his own sparse hair. Odin was startled and watched his queen warily to see if she would cast the babe away once again but Frigga only laughed a quiet adoring smile stared at the Lock of hair Loki still gripped and she spoke for the first time since Odin had entered with the child in his arms. A smile appeared upon her face as she began to gently rock the babe in her arms never taking her eyes off of the child as she spoke.

 

“I really have no choice whether or not we keep him now, do I?” She paused to bounce the child in her arm.  
“Seeing as he has already claimed me as his own, and who am I to refute that dear husband?” Her words though soft and kind held a kind of silent resignation as if she was still warring within herself the anger of Odin’s presumption in bringing the child there and the strong almost too strong desire for the calm that holding the child had brought. Holding this enemies son should not have soothed the gaping wound in her chest that her dear Thor had left. 

 

Dear Thor who had been alive only long enough for her to name him, her sweet thunderer, she had been so sure when she handed him off to the doctors that he would be fine, she had seen it. She had seen for months with her foresight the man that Thor would become boisterous and fool hardy with a heart so large it would engulf them all. It had been such horrible irony when they had told her that her son’s heart had been too weak to beat for long. That he had died because of it. 

 

Now as she held this child tight she allowed for the first time since her own son had died to dip into her power of foresight. In a flash of gold she saw a handsome young man who walked through the forests, befriending a gigantic wolf and a snake that would devour worlds if the young man would only command it. She saw someone good and kind with quick wits and a heart that was slow to trust but fierce and passionate in its love. She also saw the future this child would have if taken from her arms.

 

This babe alone would burn worlds searching for those who made him, for those who ruined him and abused him and the powers he held dear. Her grip tightened almost harshly on the sleeping babe. She could see the carnage and destruction he would bring, the kind of destruction one would create through self hatred and a broken heart, though carnage all the same. 

 

No, he was hers now and she would not allow this babe’s pure spirit to be harmed by those who would steal his magic and his innocence all in one. Those who would rend a monster out of flesh that was meant to be a friend of all that lives, they would not get to him. She would not fail him. 

 

Odin had not stood idly as his wife’s eyes turned golden as she stared to the future no doubt trying to discern the child’s spirit as she had so many months before. She would never tell him of her visions for her gift was to be kept secret from those who would harm for such great power despite her queenly status. He strode quietly forward finally able to exit the door way, closing the door softly behind him he went to stand behind his wife as she stared her eyes seeing everything and nothing while he slipped a cautious arm around her waist as he dropped his chin to her shoulder. It had been so many months since she had even spoken to him and even longer since he had seen her use her gifts so intensely. He had not only lost a son but for the longest time it was like he had lost a wife to. 

 

He wasn’t strong enough to lose her again, so he hoped selfishly for both their sakes that the child would be the one to mend what was left of their broken hearts.

 

After Frigga come out of her trance she had the name that Odin had thought up on her lips, Loki, This little one would be their guiding light in the darkness of their grief.  
Frigga found a wet nurse that would help her with the babe and Odin sent out to find the finest of craftsmen to build a nursery for the little Loki. They both put in their thoughts for what the draftsmen should use as inspiration for the nursery both unconsciously mindful yet silent about the empty one in the attached room to their bedroom, its door sealed.

 

In the end Odin wanted stars that would shine on the sealing and he used his own magic’s to make the star act as if they were the sky, Frigga told them to use a deep green and gold her mind still filled with the vision of the laughing prince who’s armor was gold and green, shining in the forests light. He would be her woodland prince though his origins were of ice.

 

That had been another thing discussed and they had decided it was best that since Frigga was more adept at ice magic that she would be the one to help Loki with his Jotun powers and origin. Odin had been against it at first, convinced that keeping Loki from the truth would have been the best option. This was not said out of malice for the Jotun’s only worry for he had heard the whispering in the streets and seen those who had spit upon the carriages of the Jotenheim ambassadors. 

 

Odin feared what this might do to the child’s heart but his wife was adamant and angry when he suggested it. Angry enough that she revealed what she had saw if almost exactly that would have happened, the Jotun’s were not monsters and Loki was never to believe that himself. So they settled on the compromise of teaching him not to be ashamed, though they were both afraid of what would happen during his naming ceremony. 

 

The moment that Frigga had accepted the baby, Odin had let her know that he planned to make him of his line and heir to the throne asking her to consider the same because this babe would be theirs if not by blood but of written word and of the heart. 

 

They were right to have worried about Loki’s naming ceremony, for which Odin had ensured that the Child’s countenance hid nothing of his Jotun heritage. Odin made a great speech of how he had found the child alone and helpless and how Loki had smiled at him. When outraged whispers drew up from the crowd Odin beat his staff and reminded him that the Jotun had paid the price for their arrogant king and that he had lost much as any in the war more than some becoming angry enough to gesture to the golden eye patch that now adorned his face.

 

He made it clear that day they were fools and hypocrites for protesting since they failed to remember Odin’s great-great grandmother had been half Jotun. After this little outburst they finished the naming ceremony with loud cheers from the crowd, at least from those who did not protest the adoption or the naming of Loki- their little white light and his heir.


	2. Thor?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is a young boy with only one true friend, but as fate seems he is likely to have a new one.

Loki grew quickly under Frigga and Odin’s loving gaze, now a barely a toddler it had been years since they had lost dear Thor but there were smiles and joy in the palace where there was gloom and sorrow resonating in the walls.

 

Frigga had even taken to gardening again, insisting to Odin’s bemused amusement that Loki must join her in the gardens to help or to help as much as a toddler ever could. Though how Loki loved it making teetering steps in attempt to chase the smallest of the Wisps or wind spirits that guarded the walls of his mother’s secret gardens.

 

Though most times the tot just sat with basket in hand staring at Frigga as she moved among the rows trimming the herbs and the spices she used for her more intense protection magics. He amused both himself and his mother as he pulled weeds from the soft grass. Going on to force the green leaves into little shapes that imitated the stars that hung in his nursery.

 

Then when he had finished them he sent them off to float away, glowing brightly with power. Loki would do this for hours sometimes despite the fact Frigga was fairly sure her young prince could not control his own magic.

 

Her Loki was going to be so strong, It felt like her breast was going to split with the pride she felt, making her scoop the toddler up to blow adoring raspberries into his little tummy that made the little boy shriek with pure delight despite his feigned displeasure at being picked up. Her little Loki was going to go so far and do so much good; much more good than the healing he had already done for her own state of mind and that of her husband’s.

 

Though mother protected him, it didn’t always save him from the harsh looks of his class mates, those who he was to study hand to hand combat and though Loki new it was important to learn this he couldn’t see why Mother couldn’t teach him this too. In truth he wanted to return to his lessons his mother was beginning to teach him one of her favorite tricks, which he had wanted to learn the very second he had first seen her send a copy of herself to meet the pageboy at the door.

 

Though they were only to start on the image of the palace rabbits and not one of himself, he was still very excited to learn. He thinks that’s why most of his other instructors liked him, he was always eager to learn the new steps his dancing master was to teach. Even if it was more out of his desire to impress his mother who insisted on dancing with him at every feast Father hosted, and that of writing mistress who taught what Loki held dear and would often tell him to simply read for the day and then ask his opinions of the prince or princess in the story. He was enthusiastic, he wanted to know everything and he was impatient to do so much to his tutors chagrin. Though hand to hand combat and sword fighting were necessary classes to take seeing that he was prince didn’t make Loki any more excited to start.

 

He had seen early he was always a slimmer than his class mates, no inherent physical strength to speak of unlike the other children of the palace. The boys often teased him, though most not unkindly about his girl like figure but then were quickly abused by Sif and the other younger women of the palace. He was terrified to be humiliated again or even worse to have Sif push him down into the dirt in victory at their wrestling matches.

 

Sif was his dearest and oldest friend, they had bonded when Loki had been sitting outside the garden reading while his mother refined and added to the garden’s protections. He had first heard a call of distress from down the path close by, startled as he was by the noise of pain Loki had dropped his book and took off running down the path his small legs carrying him swiftly until he came upon the figure of a young girl who’s braid had tangled in the low branches of one of the trees lining the path. She had tears streaking down her face and it seemed that every time she moved her hair was yanked even harder by the cruel branches.

 

The girl didn’t even seem to notice him before he was reaching up on his tippy toes and began carefully extracting the sticks from her long braid. She opened her mouth as if to tell him off but was interrupted by a grimace as Loki pulled a little too hard on her hair. Loki was immediately apologetic as tears welled up in her eyes again.

 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to! It’s just really stuck.” She sent him a baleful glare though she herself went up on her toes, mimicking Loki so there was slack in her hair allowing Loki to undue the leather thong that kept her braid tied. Once it was undone it was almost too easy to release her, making it quick word by running a swift hand through her dark curly locks until they were free of the accursed tree. As soon as she was free she gave him a grateful look before punching him hard in the arm.

 

“Hey! What was that for!?!” Loki exclaimed as she stalked away to pick up a wooden sword that seemed to have been discarded abruptly when she became caught in the tree. Her hair, waist length and free of the braid was blowing in the gentle breeze. She turned to him her delicate face with an expression not unlike a stormy sea.

 

“You!” She proclaimed once again going towards the young prince to jab a rather forceful finger to Loki’s breast bone making him stumble slightly backwards in the as yet unnamed girl continued to advance on him.

 

“You undid my hair! And now my mum’s going to take away my sword! She said I could only keep it if I left my braid in, and you-” punctuating her 'you' with yet another forceful jab “-ruined it!”

 

If Loki had been of better mind he would have told her that you can’t poke a prince or something of the like but he was too furiously indignant over her accusations.

 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have gotten stuck in the tree then.” Loki defended himself by saying; he really had only been trying to help. He hadn’t wanted the little girl to get in trouble he only wanted to help! Angry tears burned at his eyes but he viciously rubbed them away, he wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t!

 

After a short moment he realized the little girl hadn’t responded or poked him again. Taking his hands away from his face he saw her sitting mournfully under the very tree that wronged her staring at her battered wooden sword sadly while she tugged at the ends of her long hair as if she could will it back into place. Loki realized he still had her little leather tie in his hand so he walked over holding it out seeing that her anger had leached away, she took it carefully in her hands.

 

“Can’t you just redo your braid?” Loki offered helpfully only to earn a frustrated sigh before She answered him.

 

“I don’t know how” She said plaintively as her grip increased on her sword.

 

Wait. Even if she couldn’t braid her own hair, it’s not like Loki couldn’t for her!

 

Mother had taught him how to braid his own hair when it had started to tickle his shoulders, he could help her and maybe then she might want to be friends! With this revelation Loki was nearly bouncing as he turned towards the other child.

 

“But I know how to braid! I can help you braid it so you can keep your sword!” Loki declared excitedly his hands itching to start as he tried to bring to mind the way he twisted and moved his own hair so he may apply it to her. The girl’s face lit up at Loki’s declaration before quickly looking to the boy distrustfully.

 

“You swear?” she asked her voice only a little hopeful, holding her pinky out for Loki to take. Loki held his pinky out to wrap around hers swearing that he would help her keep her sword. She was seemingly delighted by this turn of events, showing it by throwing her arms around Loki.

 

“We can be friends now, and since you’re going to fix it I should say thank you for getting me un stuck. By the way my name is Sif.” Loki’s eyes brighten even further as Sif released him from the hug. A real friend! This would be great- wait. Maybe she didn’t know who he was?

 

Everyone his age seemed like they didn’t like him, Mom had told him their parents were fools and she didn’t really didn’t say anything further. Oh well, Loki’s bright eyes were now slightly down cast as he turned To Sif who was holding out the little strip of leather that Loki had only returned to her moments ago.

 

“I’m Loki, Loki Odinson” the last part was a little soft and sad sounding that he would have liked. To his surprise instead of skittering away or bowing to him she just looked at him like he was an idiot. Which, admittedly Loki was not expecting? He was extremely confused.

 

“Of course I know who you are, you’re the prince everyone knows who you are, dummy” she illustrated this by making a large sweeping gesture that seem to encompass their all of Asguard which she punctuated by roughly tousling his black hair with a soft smile on her face.

 

“Now get on with it princeling and maybe we can play knight and dragon before my mother comes looking for me” So Loki did just that, as Sif situated herself between his outstretched legs running fingers through her hair to release the remaining twigs and leaves then moving her hair in the way his mother taught him. In no time at all her long silky hair was all tied up and in place looking good as new.

 

They did go onto play knights and dragons both of them taking turns playing the dragon, Loki even manage to make a few sparks that impressed Sif so thoroughly that it made her declare that he was the best dragon she had even seen. Then in what he was learning to be true Sif fashion she put him into a head lock and Loki attempted to unsuccessfully wriggled free laughing as he dirtied Sif's face in retaliation.

 

They played and laughed themselves sick until Loki heard Frigga calling from up the path, a touch of worry in her tone. He had been gone a long time; he supposes he should have told her where he was going. He waved a swift farewell with Sif and made plans to meet by the tree again tomorrow with Loki promising to bring his favorite book all about dragons before running down the path to meet his mother. Upon seeing him Frigga had pulled him into a hug tossing him lightly in the air before catching him again.

 

So Sif was his only friend, and he knew her well enough to expect no mercy from her as he approached the ring, the slightly older son of one of Frigga’s ladies in waiting, Fandral, was standing at the end wearing a smile that could only be described as smarmy. (Loki quite liked that word since Frigga had introduced him to Miguardian stories, his favorites were those of pirates, and Fandral looked like he had the makings of a pirate.)

 

“Hurry young prince or summer will have come and gone before we’ve started, don’t be shy now” Called the weapons master seeing Loki’s hesitance to enter the ring. He continued to the rest of the children gathered there turning his back on Loki and Fandral to face the small group.

 

“Now all of you small tikes know this. If I catch anyone of you playing dirty or using the things I’m going to teach you in a way they weren’t intended, I’ll be taking it out of all your hides. That includes you Volstagg. Just because I’m your pa doesn’t mean you get to break the rules.” He leveled the group with a glare as they all furiously shook their heads in agreement. His great red beard split to show a grin full of bright white teeth, amused as he was by the children’s frantic agreement.

 

The weapons master spent nearly 3 quarters of an hour simply showing them to fall with a strike using Loki and Fandral as examples, both boys taking turns being to one to fall at the older man’s faked punch. Loki was incredibly relieved they didn’t have to fight the whole lesson, though he could see Sif bubbling with bored frustration. Loki had only just manage to convince her to leave her now steel sword, it had replaced the wooden one some time ago as they changed from short younglings to sprouting teens, in her room.

 

He was for the most part incredibly happy for how the lesson had gone Fandral had even clapped him on the back when they both had successfully mastered the lesson of the day. The problem had come when he had left the courtyard, to elated to hold onto his own magic he left his blue skin shine through.

 

Even though doing this nearly gave Loki heat stroke each time (Mother only let him do it in the winter) but he couldn’t really help it he never really could when he got excited. It always seemed his magic did too, rising illogically to the surface exposing his blue skin to the hot skies of an Asguardian summer.

 

Loki was so caught up in his joy at the possibility he didn’t hear the cart on the road at first, carrying some of the merchants and their oldest children. Though he heard them, but only after a rather large rock was thrown towards him hitting his forehead and drawing blue blood, which had frozen in place after a moment preventing it from trickling down as it would have in his Asier form.

 

Loki could hear them now and their muffled shrieks of laughter hidden behind hands as some called out greeting to him- “fair prince” said so scornfully he could feel his happiness dissipate and a sharp desire to be cruel creep into his veins. He could try to up end the wagons, he could have them thrown in the dungeon anything really.

 

Though instead his feet seemed to force him onward and soon he progressed from a still walk with his head high to a run swifter than Loki thought possible of himself. It was long before he slipped out the gates vicious sobs threatening in his throat making his head feel like it might burst.

 

Though as hard as he fights it he’s barely past the gates and still running down the first path he find, getting lost within the blurred vision of his tears. He must have turned back to his Asier skin because Loki could feel the jot blood running down his face from the cut above his eye.

 

He didn’t know when he stopped running or why but he felt rooted into place unable to move with his self-pity and sadness washing through him in overwhelming waves of despair. So Loki did the only thing that he thought may comfort him, so he turned and climbed the gigantic oak whose branches were long and wide and perfect for climbing. The concentration it took to climb seemed to rob the serious young boy of his tears as he finally perched on a branch that was barely quarter of the way up the mighty tree but still more than 50 feet from the ground.

 

He felt so tired his legs aching and his chest still begging for air, not to mention his eyes which were near swollen shut. Thinking about it more he realized with a groan that he would not be able to return until after supper if he wanted to hide his present condition from father. He meant well but sometimes he was much too harsh despite his wisdom, and Loki worried his reaction to both the offenders and to Loki.

 

Though his reasoning was solid, to stay here alone in the darkening slopes of the forest until he recovered enough to not provoke Odin’s wrath, these thoughts did not save him from the crushing sadness in his chest. The one that felt like everyone one of his bones were breaking and in a moment he would feel more than the expectation of pain and the emptiness that seemed to fill his chest.

 

He could not help himself Loki began to cry again, his wraith like song rang out through the air, answered perversely enough by song birds some mimicking while others simply twittering madly at the broken noises he was making as he tried to think of why they would hate him if he wasn’t really some type of monster. His magic pulsed around him; he could feel it writhing with Loki’s discomfort as it refused to obey him shooting off in all directions, though it struck on the tree itself. His eyes traced the ugly burn through his tears, his magic had left that on the old tree’s surface, destroying what was once was something beautiful.

 

Maybe he was a monster? He hadn’t even meant to hurt the tree and now it was disfigured forever. It was too much for Loki as his tears flowed thicker as hiccupping sobs turned to feral howls muffled only by Loki’s own hands as the teenager collapsed in on himself, tucking his head against his knees.

 

A hand slowly stroked his hair softly, warm with power- Loki’s eyes flashing open as he jumped to his feet hand reaching for the dagger in his belt (one Loki had only ever used for pruning flowers before). Though there was no one within his sight, not even a flash as he spun around searching for whoever had done that.

 

There was no one.  
He sat heavily against the trunk of the tree, thoroughly convinced he had only felt one of the many leaves falling. That was until he closed his eyes, heavy as they were with the sadness they had bared, there was another soft touch to his now unruly hair. Loki did not open his eyes this time.

 

Instead he left his magic leach out, its smooth golden tendrils searching for the creature who was still stroking his hair in a way that can only be described as comforting. His magic found nothing only this old tree’s life force was all that had presented itself to the tremulous feelers he had sent out.

 

This time with his heart in his throat he opened his eyes slowly, careful not to move. This time the creature did not move, its golden hair so long it touched its waist. It looked like a boy of Loki’s age if not bigger and broader, long fingers were still combing through the mess of Loki’s hair when Loki met its eyes.  
He- he couldn’t feel him? What kind of dark magic could this lovely boy be? He was not quite lithe nor was he bulky in build and Loki soon realized with a blush the other boy was completely naked.

 

[ _Marty-mc_ ](http://marty-mc.tumblr.com/)

His blush seemed to confuse the other boy who had remained silent, making the seemingly mute blonde tug at Loki’s cheeks, making Loki startle the both of them with a laugh. That’s when he saw it, the beautiful blonde boy had gotten a wide eyed look for a moment before leaning into a branch of the tree, and his corporal body seemed to vanish leaving nothing behind but for Loki’s startled cry.

 

He was of the tree spirits! Loki had read about those, he also knew it was extremely rare for anyone to see a spirit in anything approaching a solid form, let alone one mimicking the appearances of an Asier. Loki carefully settled himself again, excitement blooming in his chest making his heart race even faster as he closed his eyes and on impulse held out his hand. Within seconds there was a large hand in his, the tree spirit’s hand engulfed the young prince’s wholly spreading the warmth that seem to radiate out of him.

 

Loki stayed there for hours until it was almost completely dark playing this game with the spirit, having him disappear and for Loki to have to sit patiently for his new friend to come back to him. During these hours Loki learned much to his own delight that the spirit could speak. It said things like “stay” when Loki had become thirsty and it had melted once again into the bark returning moments later with water from the stream nearby.

 

This worried Loki for a moment, everything he remembered about tree spirits is that they cannot leave their trees or the area surrounding them, but Loki had just seen his new friend wander several yards from its base to scoop water into the flask Loki had handed him. He was probably wrong, he had a new friend he should be grateful for this.  
As soon as Loki learned the spirit was capable of speech he spent hours attempting to get it to admit his name. Eventually he was answered by a name so impossible and horribly familiar that it made his gut clench in dread even before the name had finished leaving his perfectly sculpted lips.

 

“Thor”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Can anyone guess the significance of the exact tree Loki climbed? *Evil laughter* So anyway I hope you enjoyed this! Though When I reread it I wanted to make it incredibly clear that Loki for the end part of this is roughly the equivalent of a 14 year old boy (Give or take a few hundred years ha) and when he meets Sif they're about 8ish. Questions and comments are welcome! (also a quick warning this story will change in it's rating as the story progresses) art by marty-mc from tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, don't freak Thor isn't dead though he is gone for now. You'll see him in Chapter three. Reviews are appreciated and kudos also I love all of you! (P.S. Loki's one possible meaning of Loki's name is white light)


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